Hope Found in the Lord's Prayer

This Lent, I had big goals for re-energizing my relationship with Christ. I signed up to send prayer cards to 40 different people in need through my parish. I had planned on praying every time I wanted to buy something for myself because I wanted to stop relying on material things for happiness. I was going to go to Adoration and Confession more often, and then all would be right during Lent.

Forgetting How to Pray 

Except that, very early on in Lent, I forgot how to pray. I would sit for minutes that felt like hours and just be blank. It was horrible; words wouldn’t come to me. Praise was not on my lips or in my heart. In a time when I was supposed to be focusing on my relationship with Christ, I was barely even present.  

I began to panic a bit. I have been a Christian my entire life. Yes, I have fallen asleep during prayer before and I have certainly miscounted rosary beads and missed a few Hail Marys, but I have never forgotten how to pray entirely! Where does this leave me? Where do I go, and what can I do to fix this? I was left to stew over all these questions for several days. 

Inspiration at Mass  

Even though I felt lost and scared in this newfound prayer paralysis, I did not want my kids or husband to know, so we went to Mass, and I fully planned on going through the motions. That’s just what I did, too. I went through the motions at Mass. I showed up. I gave the sign of peace. I tried to stay engaged and focus on the beauty around me, even though I was often just staring down at the wooden pew in front of me. It was truly a difficult first few Sundays of Lent.  

However, one Sunday, it struck me that Jesus knew that we would all be in the place at one time or another. Jesus taught his disciples the prayer that we say at every Mass:

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.”  

So I focused on the prayer that Jesus taught His first disciples. I also decided to focus on the part of the prayer that says, “Thy will be done.” This became my Lenten battle cry. Every day from that Sunday on I would pray this before I went to bed, making sure to emphasize for myself that I need to focus on God’s will for myself, for my family, and that His will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.   

Truly Asking for God’s Will  

Once I started praying the Our Father nightly and intentionally, making sure I truly meant, “Thy will be done,” my prayer paralysis started to ease. For too long, I had been focusing solely on my wants and desires. All of these wants were good and were to expand the Kingdom of Heaven, but I wanted them done in my timeline, not God’s. I was not spending enough time making sure I was co-creating those dreams with God. I had yet to understand that praying for “Thy will be done” means you have to give up a little of the “my will be done.” 

As for my dreams — growing my podcast, my children’s book being published, my children growing up to be faithful — all of those I had to give back over to God. My will is that they happen right now, but that isn’t showing ultimate trust in God’s will. I know from my past experience that God’s will and timing is infinitely better than my own. So, while focusing on the part of the Our Father that states, “Thy will be done,” I would add my own little extra into it and say, “Not my will, Father.”   

Finally Finding Hope  

There can be so much hope in prayer. I am so grateful that Jesus taught His disciples how to pray. The Our Father was my tool for finding my relationship with Christ again this past Lenten season. Praying that over and over again and taking the time to really surrender my will over to God’s will is something I didn’t think I’d ever need to do, but I know I can use this technique to carry me the next time I experience prayer paralysis.  

Finally, there is hope in surrender, too. My hopes and dreams are still etched on my heart, and I know now that I need to be a co-creator with God to make those dreams a reality. I now pray that His will is what I do, and I can get out of my own way to do God’s will. Hope will always conquer despair, and prayer can only help guide us to true hope that is only found in God.  

For the Jubilee of Hope, the Catholic Mom contributors reflect on prayer as a source of hope in their lives.

Copyright 2025 Karen Estep
Images: Holy Cross Family Ministries